Mind Of A Spooky Kid
by Lune Luna
Summary: This is my total dark side when i am slightly upset, not mad just upset....


MIND OF A SPOOKY KID  
  
I'm empty-minded and all apologies. I'm doing handstands on a bed of nails. I'm dancing on the edge of a razor blade. I'm crucified by my own stupidity. I do these things every day, mentally. The pain is emblazoned in my mind, yet I do not feel it. It burns and I laugh. It stings and I'm hysterical. I fall from grace and rise above the flames. The agony fades. The terror withers. The laughter rings through the clouds. I am rescued from my demons for a sweet satisfactory moment. My eyes twinkle as the film of grief and sorrow lifts from the irises, making them once again bright. I will never be the same as I was before my downfall, but it is nice to know that I can conjure up at least a little bit of joy. My head is swimming with thoughts, light and dark, leaving me confused. They intersect, never going parallel. Carefree little me. It will not last, I'm afraid. But at least I know that I can be happy for a little while.  
  
Damn.... damn it all. Damn the world. Damn the hypocrites and stereotypes. Damn the bitches and assholes that enjoy turning people's words around, turning people's lives around for the worst. I want to get away. To fly away and be free. To be rid of all the unexplainable torture I endure every single breathing day of this treacherous life I live. For to live is to die.... to die is to be reborn. Reborn without trouble, reborn without problems, reborn with bliss. I take comfort in my solitude, though the silence deafens me. I find no solace in this world, in this lifetime... maybe the next? No one knows. I wish I did. They say it's bad luck to know your future, to be aware of the doom or happiness that will occur. But I wish to know my future now, so that I can end it all if I find my life in the future to be like my life in the present. I want to see if things will get better. If not, I can end it all and not have to wait and see as I die slowly inside. I hate reality. It will only get worse for the soul that waits. I was wronged. I did nothing and I was wronged. I was falsely accused of too many things. Being the doomsayer I am, I can boldly say that all will die. Sooner or later. Except for me, for I am dying continuously. I feel the agony of pain at all times... I feel the cloak of Death sweep over me all the time... I will perish forever. I'm sick of myself. I'm sick of life. I'm going to bed.  
  
Why is love so expensive? Why is my heart so cheap? I can't afford the price... all I have is little fragments of who I used to be. I despise what I've become, so wicked and worn, but at the same time I'm loving it. My head aches; maybe I should smash my brains in with a hammer. My heart aches; maybe I should tear it out and swallow the fragments. The shards of glass cut my bare feet, yet there is no pain. The blood stains the checkerboard grass of blue and yellow. I am all alone. I stand alone in all my fading glory. My sorrow seeping from the scars. I stare at my self-image with tear-stained cheeks and dried-up eyes. The pain the pain the pain. I sing with the chorus of my own cracking voice. I cough and my self- assurance leaves my body. I breathe and I choke on the smoke of what's left of my self-esteem. I strive to find happiness but I am bound with the elastic chains of my horror along with the inpenetratable steel of my solitude. I laugh at myself. I laugh at my life. I laugh alone.  
  
I'm on the edge of a nervous emotional breakdown... I'm cracking up, I need a pill. Or a dagger. Or both. Maybe some poison to drown my sorrows in. I can't even begin to describe the torture. I'm going fast. Faster faster faster into the black hole that is my head. Spiraling down down down into the void of my empty stomach. It growls and I am deafened. I breathe and I can hear. I swallow my tears and it stings. This lump in my throat is dissolving with every thought of fate, with every tear that falls. They are people too, he said. Are they so much better than we are? Are you so much better than I am? Answer me that, Mr. Tambourine Man. No rest for the weary... and no rest for the wicked. I fall from Cloud 9 into Tier 7 and I think. I think of what got me here. Was it my twisted thoughts? My urge to kill? Or was it simply lust? There is nothing wrong about lusting for what keeps me alive... now is there? Mommy, where are you? Why did you leave me all alone in the rain? Daddy, Daddy, I can't see you. I can't see you over the cardboard kindergarten blocks. I can't see you over the Lego towers... Mommy, Daddy... I need you... I need you here with me. Look what's become of me! I'm a wretched soul all because of you!!!! Are you proud? Are you sorry? Answer me. Let me know that you can hear me. Look at me, I'm riding a bike! A bike ride straight to Hell! I let go of the handlebars... look, Mommy! No life!!! I'm riding on a highway to Hell... straight into the flames. I'm fading... fading.... I'm gone.....  
  
The day is long, but who's to say how long? Life is short, but who's to say how short? If I roll my eyes back into my head far enough, will I be able to read my mind? I slit my throat to redeem my soul. I hold my breath in a paper cup. I float up, up and away into my dream world. Do you think there's a heaven where my dreams have gone? Or have they shattered into oblivion? The past is far behind us, the present is over-rated, and the future is a no-man's-land where few have traveled, but many wish to travel there. I just want to stay here, in my own private Hell, and waste away. To drown is not to die, but to be brought back as a mermaid. I drown in my sorrow and become a mermaid swimming in my loneliness. Peanut butter crackers, your name should be Abraham, I never had a problem with it so why should the cattle in the Netherlands???? To live is to float but to die is to soar. Life is Hell on Earth.... suffer the little children, Hell is for children. You think you know me but I know you don't, for I know not myself. A good day to be alive, he said. Thunder rolls, lightning strikes, my spirit dies. Most see light at the end of their tunnel, but I see only darkness. Or have I been blinded by society and have been in the light all along? And just how many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop? Bill Gates may never know. And you may never care. I'm off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of the depths of my mind. I must keep running... if I stop they'll catch me. I must keep going but I can't. If I let the demons catch me, it'll mean sudden death... or am I already dead? Is it safe to stop? My head is twisted like taffy in a manufacturing machine. My heart is crushed like a steamroller over oranges. My soul has been stolen and feasted upon by my demons... there are too many to name them. Only half a quarter of them may be my pets. The rest must be obliterated by the sandblaster of my mind. Behold the power of cheese. Quote the Raven, nevermore.... and never again. Inject my bleeding heart with the disease of pure and utter darkness... forever. Do the honors with your golden dagger and feast upon the red liquid known only as my blood. There is too much; allow me to help. Sanguinary minds think alike. Gothic legion of satanic souls... the undead unite. Wish me luck in the track meet. Dragon's flames and jack-o-lanterns. Snakes and snails and puppy dog's tails.... is that really what little boys are made of? And little girls aren't made of sugar, spice, and everything nice.... then we'd all be cannibals. And I'm living proof. Peace and chicken grease, I'm over and out.  
  
How am I confused? Let me count the ways. My body is my prison. My own mind, my enemy. Self-mutilation is the key to my undying rage. I'm dancing on the edge of a razor blade, doing handstands on a bed of nails, catching my breath in a net, and watching my dreams fly away on the back of a raven. Who threw the tomato at Jesus? It's a Hell of a place and that's why they call it Hell. My brain just fell out through my ear... anyone have a Q-Tip I can use? The term "peanut-brain" is in dire need as of right now. There's that word again: aggression. To die or not to die... is that really the question? To kill or not to kill... no question there. Black lace and leather. Sipping lemonade by moonlight. Watching the house spiders spin their elegant webbing in the far corner of the ceiling. Hungry looks. Watching eyes. Screaming souls. The pain the pain the pain... Oh, the agony of it all... They say a man can be destroyed, but not defeated. Where does that place the women? What are we, chopped "sliver"? Le Sigh... Wish I may, wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight... Careful what you wish, you just might get it... I need some salvation in this alien subnation. No love for myself, no love from another. I'm running out of time. You experiment with the elixir called love. You tug at the heartstrings a little too hard. Go off, find your Juliet. For you are Romeo. This is Verona. And I'm the little street urchin. Does life and love have to make you scream? I scream to match the voices in my head. I moan and they echo. They sigh and I do the same. Twins, we are. Twin voices. Though even in twin ship, one always comes before the other. But in our twisted relationship, we echo each other for all time. The murder of the century is the death of my soul. My heart. My mind. I do not sleep so I do not dream so I do not wake up crying. Thank you muchly, stigmata. Quote The Raven, Nevermore... 


End file.
